


Growing Pains

by phichithamsters



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (but blink and you'll miss it), Body Worship, Established Relationship, M/M, PWP but for a very good reason, Post-Canon, Smut, THE FOOT THING, Tall Yura, growth spurts, mild body dysmorphia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27294841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phichithamsters/pseuds/phichithamsters
Summary: “I’m horrible,” he says. Otabek looks at him like he’s speaking a different language, and takes Yuri’s hands in the middle of the street.“Why would you say that?” Otabek whispers.“Because I am,” Yuri huffs. He drops their hands. “I don’t know how you can stand to look at me. I’m too tall. I literally look like a monster. I can’t stop bumping into things and I keep tripping over myself. I’m disgusting.”Yuri visits Otabek in Kazakhstan, seeing his boyfriend for the first time since his growth spurt.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Comments: 7
Kudos: 111
Collections: Otayuri Week 2020





	Growing Pains

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta, Pep! 
> 
> Also, thanks to everyone who encouraged this idea like, a year ago on twitter. I have been thinking about it ever since and finally got around to writing the tall yura story of my dreams!

Yuri had always known that one day he would grow. 

The tiny, skinny, kid who debuted in Seniors at age 15 was no more, lost to the sands of time. In a little under two years, Yuri Plisetsky had grown 6 inches and gained 30 pounds— finally a normal weight for once, his doctor had commented. 

Yuri had wanted to kick that doctor. Skaters were  _ always _ underweight; it came with the job description. 

But while growing half a foot in such a short amount of time had done wonders on Yuri’s ego, it had all but shattered his confidence. Gone were the days when Yuri could move through a space with relative ease, unnoticed and fluid, like a stream of water; now, Yuri stuck out everywhere he went, like a sore thumb. 

His confidence wasn’t the only thing suffering, either. Both his grandfather and Yakoc had warned him about puberty with a capital P, but those days had seemed as distant as the stars in the sky until they were literally on top of him. Quads that he used to be able to nail with his eyes closed became clumsy, uncoordinated. His feet grew wide and clunky, and he tripped out of his step sequences more than he completed them. 

He outgrew three pairs of skates in just over a month, and that was the final straw for Yuri. He decided he needed a break. 

And what better way to spend it than by commiserating with his boyfriend, Otabek, over a week-long trip. It would be good for Yuri to get out of his home rink, to get some fresh air. To spend time with people other than skaters (even though Otabek was one— he was  _ different _ ). 

The plane ride to Almaty does little to soothe his nerves, though. Yuri is all corners and edges and his knees are always knocking into something— the seat in front of him, a stray edge, each other. His arms have no place to go, even tucked snugly into his pockets they seem to stick out wildly. He feels like a hair out of place on his head, still clinging to last night’s dreams. He feels like the weeds he used to pull from Dedushka's backyard, the ones that didn’t fit into the trash bags that he’d have to bend and twist and wrestle into the bag, poking out at odd angles through the black nylon. 

By the time he lands, Yuri is beginning to doubt that anything could make him feel better at this point, even his boyfriend. He sulks until he sees Otabek, however, waiting for him with open arms and a bouquet of flowers, and Yuri realizes that this might be exactly what he needs. 

What better than to be held by the person who loves him most, and couldn’t care less about how he looks? But when Otabek brings him in for a hug, Yuri notices he’s a whole head above him. He places his chin on top of Otabek’s hair and says nothing. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Otabek murmurs into his shoulder. 

Otabek has not grown in the years that they have known each other, so Yuri’s growth spurt is noticeable, to say the least. It’s not like Yuri sees Otabek often, other than over video chat, anyways, and while they are walking back to Otabek’s apartment, Yuri begins to notice a few more things. 

First, Otabek only comes up to his shoulders, so he has to tilt his head upwards to talk. Yuri tilts his downward to kiss him, and they meet in the middle. 

Second, Yuri is considerably taller than most people walking on the street. Maybe Kazakhstan is just a shorter country, or it’s all in Yuri’s head, but he swears he’s at least 5 inches above the throngs of people. 

Third, Yuri still does not know where to put all of his limbs, and he is constantly bumping into people, places, and things. 

It’s uncomfortable and disconcerting, and Otabek seems to sense that something’s up (maybe because of Yuri’s constant grimacing). 

Back at the apartment, Otabek loops his arms around Yuri from behind. “Is everything ok?”

Yuri is glad that Otabek can’t see his face. He sighs. “Yeah, it’s whatever. Let’s just go to dinner.”

At the mention of dinner, both of them brighten a bit. Yuri drops his suitcase, and they head over to Otabek’s favorite restaurant to have some dinner. 

Dinner does help to soothe Yuri’s nerves, and his problems melt away with the dim lighting and the sound of Otabek’s laughter. There is dark wine to celebrate Yuri’s visit, and four whole courses (not including dessert). Yuri holds Otabek’s hand over the table and admires the candlelight dancing on his face. 

They say things like, “I’m glad you’re here,” and, “I missed you,” in between every other sentence. The distance is hard on them both, and the times they are together are precious— Yuri doesn’t want to mess that up with his insecurities. For a few hours, he gets to be young and in love: unhurried and uncaring about anything else in the world. 

Otabek, the gentleman that he is, pays the check, and they opt to take the bus home. Otabek scans a bus pass and the two of them board, taking seats near the middle of the bus. 

Otabek takes window, Yuri takes aisle.

The entire ride, Yuri can feel the eyes on him. Maybe it’s his shocking blonde hair, or his international figure skating status, or the fact that he is tall and skinny and jammed into a bus seat like a folding chair, painfully awkward and protruding at odd angles. Maybe they make the bus seats smaller in Kazakhstan, but Otabek doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

The discomfort travels up his spine and into his brain, nagging at him with every bump of an arm or bag from a passing stranger. Eventually, it boils over, and Yuri stands suddenly, knocking his head on the roof of the bus with an angry hiss. 

“Yura, what’s wrong?” Otabek asks, scrambling to follow him. 

_ Everything is wrong _ , Yuri wants to shout, but there isn’t enough space for his growing body and his anger, so he storms off the bus at the next stop. 

“Talk to me, Yura. Please.”

Yuri wants to cry. He begs his body not to betray him again, like it did with this growth spurt. 

“I’m horrible,” he says. Otabek looks at him like he’s speaking a different language, and takes Yuri’s hands in the middle of the street. 

“Why would you say that?” Otabek whispers. 

“Because I am,” Yuri huffs. He drops their hands. “I don’t know how you can stand to look at me. I’m too tall. I literally look like a monster. I can’t stop bumping into things and I keep tripping over myself. I’m disgusting.”

Yuri’s words rush out of him, leaving him empty. Otabek states at him for a moment, like he’s seeing Yuri for the first time. Maybe he finally realizes it too— how truly terrible Yuri is.

“What?” Yuri asks, defensively. Otabek will not stop staring. 

“I just—“ Otabek pauses. “You’re beautiful.”

“What?” 

“I don’t understand how you can’t see it,” Otabek whispers. “When I left you, you were gorgeous and slender and angelic, but now you’re all legs and somehow more skinny than before, how does that even work? And it’s fucking devastating, Yura.”

Yuri’s heart stops in his chest. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not,” Otabek says. “Let me take you home, and I will show you.”

Yuri reluctantly takes Otabek’s hand and they walk back to his apartment. 

Immediately, Otabek has him pressed up against a wall and is kissing him hungrily. Yuri wants to protest, but they’ve waited so long, and Otabek’s mouth is so warm that he sinks into the kiss, sliding down the wall a little until they are the same height. Otabek’s hands grip the sides of Yuri’s face like he’s trying to hold on to him forever. 

They shed most of their clothes, quickly. Otabek sits on his knees at the end of the bed, where Yuri’s long and knobby legs take up most of the space. 

With a moment to breathe, Yuri sees himself once again, and he hates it. 

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Otabek says, breaking into Yuri’s self-deprecating spiral. 

“Hm?”

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me when I told you how beautiful you were,” Otabek leans forward to press a kiss on the inside of Yuri’s left knee. “So now I will try to show you.”

Otabek has always been a man of few words, preferring his actions to speak for him. Until he met Yuri, and Yuri coaxed all of the beautiful words off of his tongue and they danced in that music together. Otabek had always trusted Yuri, first, and he was always willing to try to be vulnerable. Tonight, it’s Yuri’s turn to see through the eyes of someone else, someone he trusts. 

With a gentle gaze, Otabek starts from the bottom. He lays tender kisses on the bruises and scars on Yuri’s feet, taking care to introduce each toe into his willing mouth. He worships Yuri’s feet because they hold the body of one he holds dear. 

Perhaps it is the intimacy, perhaps the ecstasy, but Yuri’s chest vibrates with moans, breathless little sounds that trail their way down his body to where Otabek rests, massaging his knees, his calves, kissing the soft, inner parts of his legs, the skin that begs to be touched, anguished and forlorn. Otabek’s mouth is like water, like sunlight, like shadows, like the Earth, and Yuri’s body is becoming a part of it once again. 

His chest, Otabek pays special attention to. His hands run long, meandering paths up and down, each of his ribs are traced, solemnly, carefully. Yuri’s nipples are caressed and squeezed and kissed and sucked, until Yuri sure Otabek has drawn all of the air from his body. His neck, his collarbones— they are tended to with arduous attention, each kiss leaving a dark, mottled bruise in its wake, a reminder that Yuri’s body is shared, and in doing so, that one person alone cannot bear the burden of judgement. 

When Otabek’s lips finally reach Yuri’s parched ones once more, the kiss is euphoric, ethereal, whole. All at once Yuri feels like a teenager again, kissing Otabek for the first time with rushed hands in the back hallways of an ice rink. There was never enough time, then. 

Now, they have all the time in the world. 

It was out of morbid curiosity that he checked, but Yuri’s cock had grown a small amount with his growth spurt. If Otabek notices, he pays no mind, taking as much of Yuri into his mouth as he could with a fierce determination. Yuri loves him for it, and he makes it known beyond the bedroom walls. 

And even though Yuri thought, foolishly, that the roles would be reversed when he grew taller, Otabek still props Yuri’s legs over his shoulders (the drape down his back, crossing easily to press them closer together) and Otabek fucks him low and slow until both of their legs are burning and Yuri chest is so tight and his heart is so full that he can barely breathe. 

Cumming feels the same as it’s ever been, and it’s a warm comfort to feel Otabek finish inside of him, like nothing’s changed.

Afterwards, when Otabek curls into Yuri’s arms, pressed tight against Yuri’s chest, he will ask, “Do you believe me?” And Yuri will lay his head atop Otabek’s, smile, and answer honestly. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Check out the other Otayuri Week stories in the collection <3 It's been a pleasure to write for this week, and I've had so much fun!


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